streets filled with emptyness
echo absent footfall
beneath yelling birdsearch dismal
cry for yesterday's stolen meal
lonesome benches bathe beneath
magnolia's blossom blanket
nurturing hope of congregation
for lunchtime's sandwich pause
. traffic lights ever change and dream
. of rush hour chaos covered tarmac
. where yellow lines now silently mock
. each vacant seat of a solitary passing bus
occasional pale peering indoor faces
grace windows of fearful longing
surviving behind well bolted thresholds
auditioning death toll's daily TV feed
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Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: January 12th, 2022 00:03
- Comment from author about the poem: in light of news of parties at 10 Downing Street, I re-post this from April 2020. A reminder that all UK citizens had been told to stay indoors, the streets were empty, folk could only socialise outside with one other person and had to maintain a 2metre distance inbetween them and you.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 30
Offline)
Comments7
Many places were ghost towns. Some have resumed this pattern. Others remain opened. I wonder what lies ahead. Your poem reminds me of what it was like for us too last year - frightening.
So very true d a, it seemed to have returned yesterday when I went out for a coffee, very few people around.
Andy
I hope the days that passed never comes again
May this pandemic rest in peace now, never to return anymore
May it die down after the present variation it got
"Vote for cabbages!" then, as Teddy gives as one suggestion.
Some of it may be of choice - people not travelling to and from workplaces, if they don't have to. The strain of getting there and back, if commuting.
But for some, who before lockdown, said 'I'm working from home today', we might reply 'Oh yeah? pull the other one'.
I remember it hit home when 25 died in an old folk's home. The public did their part. Sadly, as we know now, the so-called elite just partied and laughed at us.
Yes a sad reminder but why is it called a lockdown. When your movements are constricted as in prison it's called a lock-up.
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